Page 21 of Making Choices

“I’ll take your word for it,” Delia replies. She lifts one of the baby bottles clutched to her chest. “Anyhow, I better get these rinsed out. I’ll meet you in the bar this evening.”

“Perfect.”

Our gazes stay locked for a few moments before she exclaims, “You’re nothing like I expected.”

“It’s the resting bitch face,” I quip with a smirk.

“Nah, it’s more the way you carry yourself. Like you don’t care what anyone thinks of you.” Since that couldn’t be further from the truth, I remain silent as I search for the best way to tell her that I’m just as insecure as everyone else. In the end, I don’t get to deny her claim because Delia rips the wind out of my sails when she gestures to my bruised and swollen face. “I’m really sorry for what you’ve been through. My ex was… similar… until Tank took care of him for me.”

There is nothing but love in Delia’s eyes for the man who rescued her as she gives me a sharp nod and begins in the direction of the kitchen. I wait until she’s out of sight to slump against the closest wall. My heart is racing. My body trembles. My mind floods with memories of Alex’s brutality. It takes me a few minutes to shake it off, and I only manage it once I realise what shook me so hard about Delia’s confession.

Sympathy irks me, yet the kind of understanding that someone like Delia offers is almost worse.

Knowing that my ordeal isn’t unique hurts.

Realising that most women have a similar story to tell breaks my heart.

Yet it’s the knowledge that some women remain stuck in the same situation I barely survived that really kills me.

Why is the world like this?

“You okay there, Cherub?” Slash’s concern rips me out of my dark thoughts.

I shake myself—mentally and physically—before I turn to face him. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“With that look in your eyes, we both know that’s bullshit,” he murmurs. Slinging an arm over my shoulder, he leans heavily on me as he uses his body to direct me toward the den. “Also know that look means you’ll kick my arse if I press the point.”

“You know me too well.”

“Better than most,” he counters.

When we enter the den, I expect to find Tank and Delia’s kids watching television. They’re not. I’m about to call for Delia to let her know her kids have escaped when I hear their laughter. Seems their dad has taken them outside to play on the jungle gym and slippery dip that was built when I was a kid. For a moment, I watch the big, gruff man push his two older daughters on the double swing while holding his six-month-old baby girl, and my heart pangs.

It's unlikely I’ll ever be able to give that to Zeke.

Not after the damage Alex caused.

“You keep goin’ silent like that, I’m gonna tickle you,” Slash warns. “Hate knowin’ you’re thinkin’ dark shit.”

I drag my gaze away from the scene outside the window to roll my eyes at the gentle giant smirking at me. “You’d have to catch me first.” He lunges at me while I mangle my attempt to feint to the left. We both stop short and grimace. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Slept wrong last night,” he admits. “Back’s stiff as fuck.”

“Told you it was a bad idea to stay at the hospital. Should’ve listened to me, mister.” With a shake of my head, I take hold of his bicep with one hand to stop him lowering himself to the couch and point to the floor with the other. “Lie on your stomach. I’ll pick something to watch while I work out the knots.”

After Slash sheds his cut and yanks his t-shirt over his head, I flick the bar he has through his left nipple. “This is new.”

“Yeah,” he tells me as he lowers himself to the carpet with obvious effort. “Gonna get the other one done next.”

“You’ll have more holes than a sieve soon. The chronic dehydration will be a bitch.”

“Laugh it up, little Cherub,” Slash quips from the floor. “I get hard when you tease me.”

“Gross.” I lean down to twist his ear lobe, then grab the remote from the coffee table. “Have some respect… I’m an almost married woman.”

“You gotta give it to get it.’

“Very true,’ I retort as I mash the on button on the clicker. “I’m doomed then.”

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